


Personal Hell: Starring Xu Minghao

by empireant



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Clichés/Tropes, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Utter ridiculousness, probably unreadable lmao, with a dash of vague magical shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 13:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12748866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empireant/pseuds/empireant
Summary: A birthday wish for romance gone nightmarishly wrong.





	Personal Hell: Starring Xu Minghao

**Author's Note:**

> stress makes me write and I miss seventeen. im really embarrassed to post this bc I didn't plan to;; but im trying to slowly break from my shell of fear haha..
> 
> thank u to adequater, champion writer of domestic gyuhao, for inspiring me.

It’s several bad days of meaningless arguments. They begin to stack up on each other, making both Minghao and Mingyu increasingly anxious. And a night out for drinks tips the tower over.  
  
"Honestly, you didn't have to step between us. You really embarrassed me."  
  
"You looked like you were going to hit him."  
  
"I wasn't, Mingyu. That's how much faith you have in me?"  
  
Minghao glares at the disappearing bar in the side view mirror of their car. He's had enough of today. Really filled the meter.  
  
"I don't know what else to say."  
  
"That much is obvious."  
  
Seconds later, he feels terrible for being genuinely spiteful to Mingyu, but his annoyance still burns on. His boyfriend stepped in between an argument Minghao was having with an aggressive and disrespectful drinker to his right, and he was handling the situation with speech alone, but the unwelcome intrusion brought attention from the other patrons, created a scene, and got them kicked out. It all escalated way more than he wanted.  
  
They're quiet the rest of the way home. The air is muggy and coils of guilt form in his stomach, weaving in with his irritation. Back at the apartment, he lets Mingyu go to bed alone without a word of acknowledgment.  
  
He falls asleep on their wobbly dinner table, his open book acting as a cushion for his face when it inevitably drops.  
  
When he wakes up, Mingyu has already left for work.  
  
No note or morning text.  
  
Like  _Mingyu_  is the one who should be mad here. Minghao brushes off the annoyance, dedicating himself to completing house chores instead since it's his day off.  
  
While he's folding shirts, he receives a message from one of his friends.  
  
**Soonyoung:** _come over! I have your birthday gift!!_  
  
**Myungho:**   _you usually drop it off_  
  
Blame the response on his mood. He's typing out a better one, but Soonyoung's eager fingers are faster.  
  
**Soonyoung:** _it's been too long since we last hung out :( come onnn_  
  
He can picture Soonyoung's little frown in his head.  
  
**Myungho:**   _okay I'll head over there now_  
  
**Soonyoung:**   _great~_  
  
With his jacket on and keys in his pocket, he considers sending Mingyu a message where he'll be, but decides otherwise. Don't couples need time away from each other once in a while? Minghao nods to himself. Mingyu will be fine.  
  
  
  
  
Had Minghao been more aware of his surroundings, he'd have recognized the cars of his friends parked suspiciously close to Soonyoung's home. However, the fighting nags at him until he can't focus on anything else. Biting words from Mingyu are swirling around his head even when he rings the doorbell.  
  
The door opens, but it's dark inside. Minghao looks toward the horizon, no giant star in the sky any longer. Shouldn't the inside lights be on?  
  
He steps in, and that's when it all makes sense.  
  
A light switch comes on and the joyous bunch of his friends start singing the birthday song.  
  
_"Happy birthday to you..."_  
  
Sweeping his eyes around the room, he feels touched by the people gathered to make him feel special. So he smiles pleasantly, and grins wider at Siyeon approaching him for a hug.  
  
"We  _would_  have a cake," she apologizes, "but  _someone_  said he was going to be late and he promised to bring it."  
  
Minghao nods in mock understanding, afraid to ask for an explanation. "I'm thankful anyway." He insists, letting go of her embrace.  
  
For the sake of not bringing anyone's mood down, he lets himself be distracted by his energetic friends.  
  
"In honor of your birthday, we're going to watch one of your favorite films." Seungkwan mentions to him as he scrolls through the movie options on the television. " _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_."  
  
Looking around, he realizes excluding Mingyu is petty.

Staring at the empty textbox on his phone, he's choosing what to say when it's slipped out of his hands and placed on the coffee table by the couch.  
  
"Not during the movie, Myungho." Soonyoung says gently. "Maybe the movie will take your mind off of things." He adds, quieter.  
  
So it might be a possibility he's not as good at hiding things as he thought. Or Soonyoung is just that perceptive of a friend.  
  
He'll text Mingyu after.  
  
Halfway through the movie, Siyeon happily announces that dinner is almost ready. "Cake Boy will miss it though."  
  
"Cake boy?"  
  
"Oh right! You have no clue who I'm talking about! Mingyu is buying you a cake."  
  
"Ah."  
  
Siyeon snickers. "You sound soulless."  
  
Seungkwan shushes them.  
  
Dinner passes uneventfully. Logic says there's no point in saying anything to Mingyu if he's coming anyway. Unfortunately, sometimes communication requires  _less_  logic and more word to word interaction than Minghao is used to giving. Old habits die hard.  
  
Finally, Mingyu arrives, greeted by Jeonghan and Seungcheol's tipsy cheers.  
  
"I thought you were never getting here!" Siyeon takes the white box from his hands. "Seokmin went out to get ice cream so I'll put this in the fridge." She smiles at Mingyu, "You can congratulate the man of the hour in the meantime."  
  
They lock eyes from across the room. Mingyu is in a long trench coat, and some of his hair is leaning on the wrong side. Knowing him, he probably sprinted to the door. Mingyu hates being late to things. He'd dare call the quirk,  _cute_.  
  
Unlike himself, Mingyu also cannot hide his emotions for shit. He approaches him with a stony look. Either he had a bad day, or the unresolved argument is bothering him too. Possibly both.  
  
"Why didn't you call me?" Are the first words out of his mouth before Minghao can even say "love the hair."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You didn't leave a note either." There's a bit of a frown to his mouth, and Minghao doesn't revel in being put on trial. "So, were you just hoping you wouldn't see me today?"  
  
"Mingyu, Siyeon  _told_  me you were coming here."  
  
"But was that before, or after you left the house?"  
  
"After."  
  
"You left and weren't going to tell me where you went."  
  
It's not a false accusation. That was the plan at first even if he did change his mind eventually. Truth does nothing for Minghao though as the overall grouchy tone of the conversation gets to him.  
  
"We can't be two separate people?"  
  
"You know that's not what this is about. Today is  _important._  Is it perfectly fine to ditch your boyfriend when he wants to spend your birthday with you?"  
  
Minghao is staring at him in disbelief, when he notices how quiet the room has gotten. When he glances around, only Soonyoung makes eye contact, displaying a sincere expression of worry, his brows knotted together and mouth in a thin line like it never should be.  
  
Amidst that cold moment, Soonyoung's front door creaks open. Seokmin beams holding up an ice cream tub.  
  
  
  
  
"Thanks for bringing the candles." Soonyoung says to Seokmin as they light up a few and stick them into the soft bread. "What flavor is the cake, Mingyu?"  
  
"I don't know." He's standing a few feet away from the kitchen counter. Not wanting to be so close to him, Minghao guesses. "It was the last one they had and they made me pay extra because the store wasn't supposed to be serving at that time."  
  
So, bad day it was.  
  
"Sucks." Hansol says.  
  
The rest of the party is gathered around Minghao, patiently awaiting for him to blow out the flames, and hopefully for the tension to go elsewhere.  
  
"Okay." Soonyoung pats his back. "Make a wish, brother."  
  
Minghao accidentally makes eye contact with Mingyu and immediately looks down at the chocolate-colored frosting.  
  
Television makes it seem so easy to love unconditionally. The couples are always living in dramatics, but their bond stays strong through every up and down. 

So what's the problem with craving those clichés when the happy endings are the happiest?   
  
He thinks:  _let me know what that feels like_. All those cheesy moments that make others pretend to gag, but make his heart flutter, and wonder if maybe that's the way love should be. Maybe the movies are onto something.  
  
Despite the arguing that week, he's in love with Mingyu. He just hopes it's enough to keep them going. He hopes that's enough of a spark for Mingyu. That this isn't the start to "there's no romance and im sick of you."  
  
With a puff of breath, he blows out the flickering candles.  
  
Claps echo momentarily around the room, before the the walls start to blur in an abnormal melting haze...  
  
The cheers warp, sounding daunting to his ears, and the colors swirl together on the palette of the dimension. Chan's violet sweater begins to bleed strangely into Yebin's salmon dress...  
  
"Minghao— "  
  
He thinks it's Mingyu's voice, but he's not sure. He embraces the flash of white.

* * *

  
  
Next thing he knows, Minghao is conscious, in a giant, unrecognizable bed.  
  
The bedroom itself is the kind in furniture magazines. Big windows and glossy surfaces. He's trying to figure out from what period the decorative Picasso painting is from, when he sees  _him_.  
  
It's Mingyu. But also, very much  _not_  Mingyu.  
  
"I let you sleep there this time. But don't expect it to happen again."  
  
The icy tone is unfamiliar to him, and instantly unsettling. Everything about this is.  
  
Minghao has always thought his boyfriend was fit for television, but this guy looks he jumped off-screen. This version of Mingyu walks over to his dresser, tall and proud. His clothes are designer, and his hair has not a single strand out of place. Like someone just photoshopped any flyaways. An unnatural red tint rests on his lips and his skin is clearer than anyone's ever. Instead of the warm, dark brown eyes he's grown accustomed to, the color of his irises is an olive green. Reminiscent of some western actor Minghao can't really remember.  
  
"It's sex. Not a sleepover."  
  
Minghao realizes the suit is talking to him. "Who...are you?  
  
"Faking amnesia isn't something I find attractive in men." Spraying perfume on his wrists, Mingyu keeps his back pointing to him. "Please carry on with what I pay you for."  
  
"...Which is?"  
  
"Am I  _that_  good that you forget everything?" A grin, dripping of arrogance, presents itself on Mingyu's scarily picturesque face, as he turns away from the mirror to lean back on the dresser. "You're a maid. You should probably get back to it before anyone suspects a thing."  
  
Minghao has no clue what's going on and nothing he's heard is making sense, so excuse him for taking the left exit The Fuck Out of Here.

He's already at the bedroom doorway, surprised by his own tattered work clothes, when Mingyu calls his name.  
  
"Minghao."  
  
He looks over his shoulder to see the man stride towards him.

Mingyu wraps his arms around his waist in an unexpected backhug. For a fleeting moment, he thinks he's back home, in the comforting embrace of his partner. Not that the illusion lasts long.

"I don't mean to be so harsh. I just don't know how to express myself."  
  
Yeah. Very much not Mingyu.  
  
"My father is on my case about marrying Nayoung for the sake of the company." He kisses the top of Minghao's hair.  
  
Something in those words makes him remember leaving a drama on while he washed the dishes. And he obscurely pictures a rich older man, being in love with a poor woman, but not being together despite that fact. He didn't watch pay enough attention to figure out the plot, but there were angry parents and money involved, he's sure.  
  
"But we can have fun for a little while longer right?" Once Mingyu starts kissing the line of his jaw, Minghao instantly breaks away.  
  
He's  _so_  not digging the hot and cold vibe.  
  
"What? Not in the mood?"  
  
Having sex with this version of Mingyu would be like fucking the blowup doll version of his boyfriend. No, no thank you.  
  
"I have to leave." When he turns around, a hand wraps tightly around his wrist.  
  
"Do you really want to?"  
  
To his never-ceasing horror, the words ring out repeatedly like spoken into a faulty microphone.  
  
"Yes, I really want to!" Shouts Minghao, aggressively pulling his hand away from the imposter.  
  
In a blink, he's abandoned the flashy condo, and landed in what looks like his shared apartment.  
  
With apprehension, he drinks in the familiar surroundings. Framed pictures. Stacked books. An out of place coat. And their worn sofa, cotton poking out from the armrest he'd been meaning to stitch up.  
  
He takes a deep breath, never more grateful to see the shabby state of the couch.  
  
"Dear?"  
  
Tricked by the voice, he smiles in the direction of it, only to meet another cruel trick.  
  
Once again, this Mingyu, is not his Mingyu.  
  
Same bland, conventional characteristics as the previous nightmare, but with added sympathy-inducing sullen eyes and chalky, pale skin.  
  
Something tugs at his heart and like a man possessed he walks towards Mingyu, stopping directly in front of him. It's like staring at the ghost of the lively man he knows.  
  
"W-what's wrong with you..?"  
  
No surprise flashes across his face. Rather, his smile looks both teary and endeared, which Minghao can't understand.  
  
"Nothing, baby. Nothing's wrong." Bottom lip trembling, Mingyu delicately touches his arm. "Do you want to sit down? Are you tired?" He leads them to the loveseat recliner anyway, still in that sunken sadness.  
  
Obviously, the foreign eyes and doll-like features reveal this isn't his lover, but the pained complexion compels Minghao to ask, "Why do you look so sad?"  
  
A stray tear creates a wet trail on Mingyu's smooth skin. "Because I'm greedy, sweetheart."  
  
Another petname. They sound so desolate rather than saccharine.  
  
"You can't remember this morning, but you still remember me. I should be grateful. I s-should..." Tears are pouring out now at an alarming rate. Minghao instinctively reaches with the sleeves of his jacket, trying to dry them away.  
  
"Say you won't forget me." Mingyu holds onto his hand. "We'll see another doctor. No matter what it costs. Please keep fighting for us, Minghao..."  
  
"How could I forget you?" It's more of a question for himself, about this new world. Where Mingyu pleads to be remembered and he doesn't rest.  
  
"I'm sorry for crying so much." Mingyu apologizes, now holding onto both of his hands. "You must be tired. Do you want to take a bath? I'll help you so you don't fall again. I won't let you fall."  
  
Apparently he isn't expected to know how to bathe by himself.  
  
Or remember his loved ones.  
  
"This is...this is  _bad_."  
  
Mingyu's pain-stricken face is instantly replaced by the Han River, glistening by the reflection of city lights in the dark of the night.  
  
"What was that all about?" He says freely, shivering when a chill reaches his spine.  
  
"You came."  
  
Mostly the same unrecognizable version of Mingyu. Pale, green-eyed, and flawless hair. The only constant in these terrifying...hallucinations? Dreams?  
  
"I guess I did."  Mingyu looks much warmer in his scarf. Resisting the temptation to sneak his hands in Mingyu's pockets, he shoves them in his own. "What're we talking about?"  
  
"We can't be together anymore."  
  
And there it is. He pictured the day to come with a little more emotion. Not a robotic, and seemingly rehearsed line from some fever dream figure, but it hurts nonetheless.  
  
Minghao doesn't say anything in his confusion. Chooses to watch over the slow ripples in the water.  
  
"My mother doesn't approve of you, and I know she'd make our lives impossible. It's for the best."  
  
This is the part where he should beg. For forgiveness or patience or who knows what. That's what he senses he should do.  
  
Maybe if it were  _his_  Mingyu.  
  
Minghao isn't going to grovel for a poor imitation of the light of his life.  
  
"Do you know the time?"  
  
Mingyu's voice is light and completely unwarranted. Minghao squints. "Um. No."  
  
"Ah, of course." Mingyu smacks his forehead. "Give me a moment." He pulls his sleeve back and a shiny smartwatch product lights up.  
  
"I'm so glad I have this. It's much more convenient than pulling out my phone." He grins, paper white, ruler straight teeth colliding. "Good for keeping track of my jogging time too."  
  
"I— " Minghao tries to comprehend the 180 degree personality split. "Cool?"  
  
"It comes in different colors too!" Mingyu steps closer, too close for someone who just tore their relationship apart. "Black, blue..."  
  
Hollow green eyes refuse to meet his. This guy stays glued to the apps on his device, brightness at a stinging level. He's yammering on about how great the damn thing is so much that Minghao asks himself when he turned on the shopping network.  
  
It sounds a lot like an advertisement.  
  
Mingyu is showing him the music app now.  
  
"For the price you pay, it's really worth it..."  
  
It's  _very_   _much_  like an advertisement.  
  
Either he's losing his mind, or whatever this simulator is took too many notes on modern dramas. So many advertisements on TV that they've tainted his dreams now. He's probably kind of losing it to find this situation funny, enough to laugh with a hand over his mouth.  
  
The actor doesn't even acknowledge his hilarity.  
  
The absurdity shakes him into action and he decides right then and there that he isn't going to be swept up by any of this. Xu Minghao is not going to ride this cheap fever dream. He only rides...uh, think clean thoughts...  
  
Returning his gaze to the con artist is enough to turn him off.  
  
"How old are you that you can't make decisions for yourself? And I think you forgot to note: ads shouldn't be a part of the story."  
  
Satisfaction in his smile, he watches Mingyu's bewildered look.  
  
"Forgot your lines? Go on, check the script. I'll wait." He crosses his arms, heart skipping with excitement to emerge victorious from this strange nightmare he's been chucked into.  
  
His boyfriend had actually once said to him, "Competition turns you on." Just over lunch. Some observation he'd made, stowed away, then dropped onto his convenience store ramyeon. Minghao had answered with a flat, "No." Thinking back, he's pretty sure Mingyu was right, considering how so many of his dance competitions end when they get home together.

And it happens to be the same situation again here. He'll wake up, out of this horrifying parallel universe trap, and be back in the comfort of his lover.  
  
He has yet to kick his way out first though.  
  
Caused by those few words, the setting is unmoving. In the startling calm of the land, he blinks into a new backdrop.  
  
This time he's alone.  
  
A charming (and equal parts typical) cafe protects him from the rainy weather outside. Through the glass, he observes the empty streets with suspicion.  
  
He knows better than to keep his guard down, and gets up from his seat, looking to make sure for himself whether this new environment is still just a budget film cliché.  
  
He grabs at the air beside his leg, where he sometimes keeps his umbrella on rainy days, only to increase his doubts.  
  
Outside, there doesn't seem to be much movement, and the rain pours down harder once he's taken a few steps.  
  
When he hurries past a dirty alleyway, a hand lands on his shoulder.  
  
"Minghao, please."  
  
He tenses completely, and the familiar stranger takes that slip up as an opportunity to step in front of him. "Breaking up was a bad idea."  
  
He's not back home.  
  
"Don't know you man, sorry." Before he tries to push past Mingyu, he's blocked by the bigger body, and the only way to go is backwards into the alley.  
  
"I followed you here."  
  
"That's creepy."  
  
His clothes are close to soaked by now with how heavy the water falls. Hopefully this ends soon because he has very little tolerance for cold, even in a fake scenario.  
  
"I can't stop thinking about you."  
  
"Get a hobby?"  
  
Ironically enough, the alley lacks the scent of wet garbage, and the real pain is staring at Mingyu's face.  
  
As he's taking steps back, he realizes exactly what loop he's stuck in now.  
  
The ever-popular kiss in the rain.  
  
"Mingyu— "  
  
Eyes light up at the name, like he's somehow confirmed something.  
  
"—Can you move away from me?"  
  
"Not until we talk."  
  
Droplets are sliding down Mingyu's skin and dripping from the tips of his hair.  
  
"Should've brought an umbrella, dumbass." Minghao says, promptly stepping into a deep puddle and hating the entirety of his life.  
  
There's no response to his insult. Not a change on the pretty face.  
  
Minghao is cornered against a brick wall, caged in by Mingyu's arms in either side of his head, water continuously gliding down the bridge of his nose. With nowhere to go, his desires ignored, Minghao feels frustratingly helpless, and very  _very_  angry.  
  
"I'll always love you, Minghao." Not Mingyu says.  
  
"Oh, fuck you."  _Thanks Mingyu for teaching me how to curse in Korean!_  
  
Unchapped, moisturized lips press against his, reminding him yet again that this is not where he wants to be.  
  
His boyfriend, while consistent at cleansing his skin, eating healthy, and exercising, neglects his lips completely.  
  
_"Mingyu, seriously, your lips are going to bleed on their own if you don't take care of them."_  
  
_"You have lip balm on, right?"_  
  
_Minghao nodded._  
  
_"Then just kiss me more." Mingyu smiled like he told some brilliant joke. "So that it'll be on mine too."_  
  
_"What a fool." Minghao answered fondly, leaning in to do just that._  
  
What pisses him off the most, is that despite his repertoire of combat moves  _and_  obvious signs that this is not the man he loves, he can't bring himself to hurt this imposter. He does however push at his chest as harshly as possible.  
  
Suddenly under a flickering streetlight, Minghao touches his dry clothes, eyeing the empty street.  
  
He smirks at the bulb that struggles to stay on, smug, but also, a little worried. How much longer does the charade have to go on? And can he keep breaking out of these sets...  
  
When he begins to walk, cars appear suddenly on the road like it were a busy night. It's an eerie thing to see. He really wants to go home. He really misses Mingyu.  
  
This time he sees him from afar. A silhouette headed for him on the sidewalk. Running out of ideas, he stands still, awaiting another annoying confrontation.  
  
"You're still here."  
  
"Where else would I go?" Minghao grits out.  
  
Mingyu gulps. "You say you love your husband— "  
  
"My  _what?"_  
  
"—but I can love you better than Seungcheol can. I know."  
  
Minghao's faces scrunches up in what-the-fuck-I'm-married-to-Seungcheol?  
  
Mingyu brings out a bundle of daisies ("Where did you pull those out from?") up to Minghao's shocked face.  
  
"Leave him, for me."  
  
"Okay. Alright. I think I've had enough." He moves away, only for Mingyu to follow mechanically. "Yeah, I'm definitely over this."  
  
He waits to see a gap in the cars on the street, then dashes for his life.  
  
"Minghao!"  
  
He keeps running, but curse this weirdly fast poser, that grabs him in the middle of the road. Twisting out of his grasp, Minghao takes a hold of the clone's collar. "I don't know  _what_  you are, but you're not my boyfriend.  _Where_  is he?" No response. "Where am I?"  
  
One long loud honk from a truck barrelling for them signals its speeding approach.  
  
"Oh shit."  
  
 He shoves the mass of Mingyu out of the way to best of his abilities, and doesn't have time to move himself before the bright light has enveloped him again.

* * *

 

First meeting Kim Mingyu was nothing special. Minghao remembers it only because of how it proceeded.

Fresh into their first year of career studies, they found work at the same restaurant and took turns drawing each other on the chalkboard during their late shifts. Out of boredom, and eventually, an excuse to stare at each other for prolonged time.

Independent from a young age, Minghao was used to keeping things to himself and learned to live in the isolation, but he found that he liked Mingyu's company and warmth. Could potentially get used to that.

He ended up  _loving_ Mingyu's attention. Which came in the form of Mingyu's patient listening, shared corny jokes that rose from sleep deprivation, display of random but impressive talents, encouragement or helping hand whenever he struggled with something— speech or otherwise, sweet wordless glances, and playful pushing— which lead to an impromptu cheek kiss from Mingyu that left them both stuttering and blushing, but ended in a "I think I feel the same way you do."

Over the course of a few months, he learned what it meant to enjoy being with someone else, even when hypothetically you could be perfectly content by yourself. 

Two years later, they're still together.

Early on he found someone who matched him well, so maybe as time progressed, he forgot exactly how lucky he was.

* * *

 

Carefully touching his surroundings, he peels his eyes open.

Phone in his lap, date reading the morning after his birthday, and headphones hanging from his ears, he's seated in a recliner identical to the one from his apartment.

"...Mingyu?" He tests out.

Dead silence.

Every room in the house is empty of the person he's desperate to see. Lost about where to go, he decides to go back to Soonyoung's place, even though he has a vague memory of leaving.

The hallway outside of their apartment is the familiar filtered blue of always, and when he rushes past the busted elevator to the staircase, walking up it, with groceries in his hands, is Kim Mingyu.

 _His_ Mingyu.

Mingyu's eyes widen. "Minghao, you're awake...why are you crying?"

"Crying?" His eyelashes give way to a few unimportant tears, that he quickly wipes away.

Standing there, one foot on the next step, apples tilting dangerously from the top of a paper bag, Mingyu looks a little awkward and out of place. Nervous.

And Minghao has never been more in love.

Mingyu shifts the bags closer. "If this is about our fighting, I'm sorry. None of that meant anything. Really. Except for the night at the bar."  
  
He waits.  
  
"I was worried about you, okay? I know you can handle yourself, I do, but what if that drunk man used more than his hands to hurt you? What would I be if I stood there and watched you get hurt?"  
  
Mingyu's teeth are back to their jagged shape, pressing into his bottom lip. His eyes are the same rich dark brown they'd been before. Every out of place strand in the part of his hair is returned.  
  
"I haven't seen you cry since we saw the movie about the circus elephant. You're scaring me." Mingyu says, bags slipping from his hands. Clumsy disaster pending. "Please say something."  
  
Minghao blinks. "...Let me help you with that." He steps down to him, taking half the burden from his arms.   
  
"Oh my god, you're breaking up with me aren't you...Minghao, we can fix this, I didn't—"

Giggles spills out all on their own. "Stop." His wide-eyed boyfriend stares in confusion. Likely the same expression he'd been carrying through every nightmare set up. "I just—" he breathes in shakily, centering himself as best he can. "I need to say, that I love you. Exactly as you are. I would never change anything."  
  
A smile blooms on his beautiful face, before reaching for Minghao's free hand to hold as they go up the stairs. "Really? Then what are the tears for?"  
  
"Because I've been a terrible partner and haven't shown you my feelings enough."  
  
Mingyu shakes his head immediately. "That's wrong on all fronts." He smiles. "I always feel like you love me."

"Oof." It's exactly what he wants to hear.

But it's fun to tease.

"Mingyu. That's cheesy as fuck." He swings open the door to their apartment.

Mingyu laughs, sunlight from their windows doing him every favor. "Wow. And us buying matching clothes isn't?" They set the groceries down. "You calling me your _soulmate_  isn't? Or photographing our travels, or waking up next to each other, or obscure restaurant dates at 1 am, or—" Minghao cuts him off with a kiss.

"How about we put the food away, Kim."

 

 

"Okay. We went through all the fighting. Now comes the fun part."

Powering off his laptop beside Minghao, Mingyu stares blankly.

"Making up." As he throws his sweater off, Mingyu's eyes become bright with recognition, eyes trailing the curve of his body.

" _Ohh._ "

Minghao pulls him along to their bedroom, until Mingyu's feet gain life again. And when they do, he wraps himself around Minghao, making it difficult to walk.

"If I remember correctly, we fought a _lot._ So, it might take several days to make up for this." He nods knowingly. "Ah. We'll have to take turns a few times at least."

"I'll be gentle." Minghao says, fingers running under Mingyu's chin.

"Actually, this time around, I prefer you don't."

Minghao laughs breathlessly, pushing his shoes under their bed, then taking Mingyu's off for him. "I won't if you won't."

Mingyu winks, tugging Minghao over him. "Perfect."

  
It's one of the good nights. Common, because it's Mingyu he lives with.  
  
Falling asleep, he tightens his arms around Mingyu's torso, hoping he understands what Minghao feels through his sense of touch.

And of course, Mingyu does understand. If he didn't, he would ask.

* * *

 

 

Soonyoung uses a fork to push the crusty birthday candles to the edge of the table.

"Where did you buy these, Seokmin?"

Seokmin emerges from the living room, trash bag in hand. "Someone on the street?"

"What do you mean?"

"So, somehow, I forgot to buy them inside the store, but a little girl stopped me before I went back in and told me she had extras. And I accepted them."

"Interesting coincidence."

"Yes...why do you ask?"

"See for yourself." 

Seokmin places the bag on the counter, taking a place next to Soonyoung.

"Oh..."

Alleged birthday cake candles, are now curled in on themselves, coated in a murky swamp color.

"These don't look brand new." Soonyoung tilts his head. "They look very old."

"Maybe they are."

"Yeah, maybe."

 

**Author's Note:**

> that's The End. i gave up on proofreading cause im Tired
> 
> ALRIGHT so in this universe, minghao thinks the whole thing was a dream, but it was rlly a spell activated by his wish. which he broke out of bc he wholeheartedly didn't want to be there. an incompetent cupid (wonwoo) skimmed through some dramas and films for research, then granted minghao his wish to live cliches (via candles), thinking he was doing a good job. (which, in a backwards way, he did!) part 2 of this is wonwoo meeting soonyoung (ft. wingman minghao) and experiencing love for himself but uhhh currently im too self-conscious to post it.
> 
> I know it doesn't really make sense. but to my tiny sleepy brain it does.
> 
> please take care of yourselves. hope the rest of your 2017 is spent happily!
> 
> thanks for reading <3


End file.
